


Identities of Love

by sierraowls



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Family, Love, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity, tragic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraowls/pseuds/sierraowls
Summary: A memoir of the new chapter of Natasha Jane Reed, orphaned at the age of fifteen. Lived with her grandparents until she left for university a year later. Became the youngest professor in UCL and now a rising YouTuber with her best friend.However, this was the same procedure to Carina Whites, child genius, former agent and quite annoyed on the fact that she fell for her best friend's ex-boyfriend.---It's the continuation of Lewis Brindley's long and winding novel. He's the founder of a company, creator of a game he failed to see and the growing voice of Yogscast Limited.But before all of the fame, the games and the after parties: he loved chemistry, adventures and now suspicious of the woman who calls herself a different name.





	1. Prologue: Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> New Story, which I don't really know. It's kind of a big massive edit of an xReader story I did so...I'm not so sure if it's good. Lot's of original character stories are not the best but I enjoyed just writing random stuff that could may or may not make sense. Do enjoy!

Carina Whites, or often named Cara, had an odd ancestry.

Her parents were a mixture of nationalities, spent into a swirl of deep affection after meeting abroad. Her mother was a violinist on the rise, considering the amount of times she’d watch her mother play the wooden string instrument in the house. She would watch and listen intently, feeling entranced by the docile movements and deep vibratos her mother’s hands would be doing.

On the other hand, her father was quite an enigmatic mind to Cara. She wasn’t sure what job he entailed to always be gone for so long. He would leave with a small suitcase in his hands, and a long black coat tailing behind him. When he got back, Cara would discover him to look worn and tired, but could still see the faint smile he wore whenever he looked at her mother and herself.

Maybe that was how they met, Cara thought at the young age of five.

She could imagine her father going to an orchestral concert, only to be entranced by the siren’s call. And after the performance, her mother took interest in the dark and mysterious man in the black tuxedo – after complimenting the lead violinist of her performance.

However, these were merely observations Cara had easily deduced. Her parents were rarely seen together and whenever the time came, they were rather civil to one another, interested in keeping her young self-occupied.

It was rare to these small affections for the ordinary – but Cara Whites was far from the most ordinary people you would expect.

The first time she found out she wasn’t ordinary was her first day at school. It was an international school, with the main language a complete difference to hers. She would keep silent, her eyes in front whilst the teacher would speak in a pace that she deemed to be the speed of a sloth.

Whenever a question came to her, all eyes were on Cara.

She would hear her classmates whisper things she knew were about her, ‘why doesn’t she speak?’ or ‘is she a ghost or something?’.

When the teacher asked her, what was her favourite book: Cara replied:

“ _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley.”

The whole room was silent, waiting to see how their teacher would react. At the end of the day, she found the book in her bag missing – only to find it stained and ripped in the playground. A small portion of pages were still intact as Cara picked it up and nestled it in her arms.

Once she got home, Cara took a needle and some string and tried to put the page back together. At the end, her mother – Rosalind Whites – had confiscated the copy after finding Cara operating on the book past her bed time. Only the corner of her bedroom sourced a dim light which lit a large desk – covered in pages, pens and Rosalind’s sewing kit.

Cara never told her what really happened to the Frankenstein book.

And when her mother asked, she spoke that it fell in a puddle and the pages ripped as she picked it up.

The months in her first school had taught her well enough her first lesson with people.

_One: answer only honestly to the right questions._

* * *

 

Cara’s list didn’t gain another lesson again until she moved to her father’s homeland. The UK was entirely different to the urban buildings and skyscrapers. Built with greenery, trees and stone houses – the village of Little Baddow was what she imagined what Mary Shelley used to live in.

It was a rather large stone house, with dark velvety vines of ivy crawling over the walls and the checked windows. A cobbled path lead her to a wooden door, with a black metal handle that was as cold as ice once she held it with her small hands.

Her mother urged her to take in the scenery, not expecting you to find three pairs of eyes from the street.

Cara was curious of those eyes until her parents brought her across the road and in front of new people. There were five of them. A tall thin man with brown hair greeted her father with a firm handshake whilst the tall woman passed a cup of tea towards her mother. As for the three pairs of eyes still looking at her, the tension rose to almost awkwardness.

What made it awkward was the eldest one. She could sense the middle child wanted to be somewhere else whilst the girl who was at her age wanted to play with toys. The eldest, whom seemed to try and get everyone comfortable had eventually made his little sister to tears.

There was a huge fit of tears, and the middle child – Ralph – was arguing with the eldest – who was denying the fact that it wasn’t his fault for making his sister, Philippa, cry. The little introduction to the Brindleys was not the best turn outs for Cara, but it did seem to take something into consideration.

She never saw anyone cry before, and it terrified her when she felt her face swell with tears as well.

Her second lesson was simple: _control crying or anger._

* * *

 

To say that your neighbours were your family was an understatement.

After that awkward first meeting, Cara had managed to wrap herself around the Brindleys’ fingers. There was comfort whenever she was with them for an unusual reason; there was less gazing, less quick breaths and less times of her looking down at the floor.

Pippa Brindley was the description of a fox.

 She was sly with her brothers, always finding ways of getting her demands from her brothers and Cara herself. She often took part with Pippa’s persuasive doings and managed to get chocolate from the local corner shop after helping with boxes. They would play constantly afterschool, pretending to be adventurers to actors in Hollywood. Cara’s favourite moments would be taking the camera out for spin and ending up with photos of Pippa dangling upside down from trees.

Her interaction with Pippa’s older brothers were much more different.

With Ralph, he was boyish and brave, bordering with recklessness but didn’t stop making Cara fill adrenaline and danger. They would race down the streets with karts, build fires and dens and would sometimes practice her martial arts. His presence helped her remove boredom in the long summer days, having to be able to go fishing by the river or paddle in the beach.

Then came the eldest Brindley child. Cara couldn’t remember much about him, only knowing that he was five years her elder, a thin child with square glasses perched on his nose and often a book in his hands. He was adventurous as Ralph, but never seemed take full enthusiasm with what Cara experienced. She remembered him leaving for university, but that was it. Cara found nothing special about Lewis Brindley.

Third Lesson: _People may be useful for your benefit._

* * *

 

Twelve years later after Lewis left for university, Cara would be looking at the same eyes in a rather different perspective. Between those twelve years, many things happened. And she hid it well in her bright blue eyes. Under her bright and genius mind, her heart was layered with ice and thorns and her soul was broken and tape with temporary hope. Hope that she thought to have found in the people she met those years before.

Her new chapter sets in Bristol, in front of a building that would hold the deepest cracks in her memories and may find Cara wanting to remind her of her fourth lesson well.

And that was:

_Choose who you open yourself to._


	2. One: Jeans and a shirt were once cool back in 2000

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Cara and George applied for a long term contract at Yogscast Limited, and their typical antics of money, jobs and the boring lot of moving from London to Bristol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be boring start, but it was best to proceed into something that is simple. There's going to be a lot of back tracking in the further chapters. So trying to get an understanding that Cara and Natasha are two different identities of the same person is better.
> 
> Some new names may be confusing you, but will be introduced further into the story.

Jobs were entailed by your natural personality and abilities but was also from development and learning. As for Cara, she wasn’t expecting to become a poster girl for an internet website.

She began working YouTube part time after her Charter for Engineering, accepting the fact that she couldn’t balance the constant change of office team work to independent gaming fun. At one part of the day she would be on her best behaviour, and the next: Cara would be swearing and making innuendo jokes with her friends online.

That was where she met Hannah Rutherford.

She was around her age, a few weeks older than Cara herself when she met the woman in a raiding in World of Warcraft. Their teamwork helped their guild and even let the more popular youtuber in their group chats. At that time, Cara was at her early stages of her channel: posting once a month of a twenty-minute video of her raids with George. She was not bothered by the number of people watching it, not when her video involved inside jokes, poor planning and toaster microphones.

When Hannah saw this: she loved her work.

It came quite a surprise that after her upload of her times with Hannah: her views increased. Cara become suspicious of the woman’s intentions, only to find that Hannah had a channel of her own and uploaded her own videos of Tomb Raider.

She learnt of BlueXephos before she ever met Hannah, Cara just wasn’t expecting Hannah to have ties with him/them. George had often urged her to watch their videos, taking clips and ideas on how to process and edit videos to improve them. Her best friend clearly had the upper hand of work.

That was why the two of them started their joint channel.

They named it CastifyGaming after George’s former account being called George Castify.

Hannah in the future, would then ask the two if they would like to change it to YogsCastify. Cara’s new chapter began with her best friend being emailed a document or their new contracts at Yogscast Limited.

She was ecstatic of the news. The offer stood a couple of years ago, after meeting Hannah sometime in 2012 in Insomnia and wondering if there was a possibility of joining the Yogscast’s new network. It was so simple for Cara to be lured in such a trap, but she knew well what she would expect in a company linked to one of the largest in the world. Polaris, a company based by Disney, was not on Cara’s list.

An argument broke between her and George with this dispute. She knew he wanted to join a bigger network to try and gain some opportunities to create and develop his game ideas. Cara understood this, though with some excuses – George and her agreed to wait for another chance.

From 2012 to the next four years, Cara would be risking a whole company’s life in her hands and signature.

She had a visitor on that same day as well.

He found her walking around Hyde Park that autumn, a coat wrapped warmly around her as she tossed seeds at the ducks. Cara was prepared to hear the hidden aggression in ‘William Peterson’’s voice. Instead he handed her a USB.

Hers in fact.

“You trust me to hold my life?” Cara looked up, hiding her surprise with a smirk.

Her uncle spoke, “I trust you to stay undercover.” Will looked at her sternly. “Until you’ve decided your choice on this matter.”

Cara twirled the metal device between her fingers before slipping it within her pockets. “She’s happy for her new job.” She sighed. “She’ll meet new people, go to conventions, make young people happy and still gain money and fame across the internet.”

“Well I give her good luck.” Will replied. She wasn’t sure whether her uncle was really accepting her choice or willing to play it out with an advantage. Though, Cara knew that her job as an internet content creator was entirely for her enjoyment.

He left after ten minutes, since she spotted his phone pop up a notification. Will shook her hand and the man left the park, disappearing into the crowds that began to pile up near the entrance. Sighing once more, she took a breath and took the tube home.

The flat she shared with George was not the spacious of them all. There were two bedrooms, with one working as an office space. The flat didn’t show any signs of packing yet, not until after Christmas she would find boxes of furniture and trinkets beginning to be piled either for the bin or for their new home.

She slipped her coat on the hanger and removed her shoes, tossing the house keys on her way onto the coffee table. Cara headed for the small kitchenette and turned the kettle on, looking over new posts on Reddit or Twitter on new games or latest gossip.

2015 was a hectic year for the Yogscast, despite a decline of viewers and slow subscriber counts.

However, it didn’t stop Natasha Reed from always laughing at their antics.

“Nat? You at home?” She looked and popped her head around into the corridor, letting the voice know she was already in.

Cara called out, “Do you want any tea?”

“No shit!” George shouted back, causing Cara to chuckle.

They took their mugs into the living room and planned to start their weekly movie night. George worked part time over at a marketing technology company in central London, often ending up at home in the late hours of the night. Cara would love that joy of working from eight in the morning to six in the evening, but her – Natasha’s – job at UCL allowed her to take the Friday off and let her work on Saturdays (just for the extra payment).

A large slurping noise came from her left, and Cara rolled her eyes and jerked her elbow at his side. The tall man next to her groaned, spilling some tea onto his shirt.

George groaned, “For gods-what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You were drinking your tea to loudly, you twig.” She chuckled. “Honestly, have some goddamn British manners.”

“British manners…”He parroted and snorted back at her. “Hardly the most polite and sophisticated person on this couch. Now, who was the one who turned up in jeans and a hoody to an after party?”

Cara hid her smile under her mug. She remembered that memory well, and it had ended her on news. ‘ **YouTuber turns up at Hollywood after party in jeans and shirt** ’ were the main headlines she could remember.

Reddit was on fire, making memes and making Natasha fill the spotlight of finding a place between the bigger Youtubers she called as friends. Cara knew many who entered the Hollywood YouTube career. Even Pippa Brindley took the spot after making ties with Jordan Maron.

Natasha wouldn’t say something like this, though Cara would, so she responded. “A dress can let eyes glance, but jeans can let eyes wander.”

George patted her shoulder, impressed at her friend’s often rare wise moments. Cara would say Natasha was the extroverted introvert of the relationship whilst George Kingston was the introverted extrovert. The two complimented one another and stormed their channel with various vlogs, games and the one or two challenges they faced within the streets of London.

One time, they took the challenge of racing each other around the tube, using Cara’s moment to exercise her legs and race against the tube’s time. Other moments led them abroad, with conventions in America allowing them to expand further.

Cara would find that name: _Natasha Reed_ plastered on posters with George’s at VidCon.

And Cara never skipped a heartbeat about it.

Now months edging closer to their start of their contract, Cara began her search for various flats she could find near their new workplace. Her tea was finished, letting her feet prop up onto the coffee table whilst _Guardians of the Galaxy_ was playing.

When the movie entered the scene when they arrived to the collector, Cara nudged George from his concentration.

He said, “What?”

“Look at this.” Cara pointed at the pictures, showing an open spaced lounge, kitchen and bedrooms. “There’s even a fuckin’ porch and an extra room we can convert into an office-“

George butted in, “Are you sure we can cover this?”

“Of course,” Cara furrowed her brows. “Why the hell not?”

He raised a brow, speaking only from his face. Cara knew well that her plans were not always the most agreeable in her best friend’s eyes. She knew he felt guilty for not always paying equally to what she gained. It wasn’t her fault really, Cara’s former job was well paid and she placed it in Natasha’s accounts.

After a minute of a staring contest, Cara cheered and kissed his cheek. He sighed.

“I hate losing against you. You and your persuasive…money saving…spending mouth.” George groaned and tossed a pillow at her. She grabbed it mid-air, placing it back down.

She spoke softly, “I know…I know you want to help. But where am I going to put this money to use?” Cara gazed up at him. “You are the only family I’ve got.”

“Okay, okay!” George spoke back. “Can you stop with the pouty look and I’ll agree!”

She grinned.

“But only in one condition.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

* * *

 

On the early morning of January, Cara and George arrived at Cotham. The area had a sense of Georgian periodic architecture. There were ornate pillars carved over the front of the white houses, with long rectangular windows reaching the ceilings.

They met with the agency selling the flat, and to their surprise, it wasn’t the dingy awful look Cara expected to have been scammed by. The photos looked too fake for Cara’s liking in comparison to the price, though she was overall impressed.

Luckily the two had managed to have their deposit accepted, and let Hannah know on the same day. They decided to meet her at the city centre, choosing a small restaurant by the waterfront to meet her at her lunch break.

Once Cara spotted the blonde hair, she waved back before greeting the petite woman a hug.

“Guess what?” George grinned.

Hannah saw Cara’s sly smile and she cheered, happy for her and George. “I’m really happy for you guys! Neither of us can get even a mortgage for any of the flats around here!”

“It’s Nat’s doing,” George poked his thumb at her. “Wouldn’t be moving if she hadn’t found you.”

Cara ignored and replied, “It’s George’s goody position as a marketing poster boy whilst we should be thanking my grandparents and parents.”

Three pints of beers arrived just in time, and the trio clinked their glasses in unison – celebrating for their new home. Cara drank the whole lot, unaffected by the alcohol, whilst George took light sips and brushed back the mess of curls from his warm face. Hannah on the other hand, was just drinking for celebration. Their impeding office was quite far from the harbour so they planned to drink quickly so Hannah could get back on time for her recording.

As they walked around in the winter weather, they conversed on the new conventions they would be going to. George was listening very closely, letting Cara joke on how much he could be a university student again.

George explained, “Don’t mind her, she’s actually a Cambridge poshy despite her sewage filled mouth-“

“Shut up,” Cara interrupted, and smirked. “You tell me off for being a fucking poshy; who, out of both of us, joined the Cambridge Singing Society?”

Hannah burst out laughing, eyeing the tall man next to them turn a beetroot red. George sniffed and stuck his nose. She knew that George was rather proud of his previous societies he was invited in, a lot of the times it had been her going to his concerts vice versa to her orchestral concerts and art exhibitions.

“I’m so glad that Turps hired you,” Hannah smirked, pleased. “We need people to tone down the ego we have in there. It’s horrendous for me, Kim, Katie and Anna.”

Cara answered, “I don’t know, Hannah.” She shrugged. “Adding more ego to the mix could unbalance the broth. But if you think a bunch of nerds can be of assistance, sure.”

With final farewells – until the moving day – Cara embraced her friend one last time as well as George. She and George watched Hannah leave onto the public bus, where she would be turning up at YogTowers soon enough.

“So…” George cut the silence. “Ready for my present?”

Cara looked up, squinting due to the sun. “What is it?”

“Four letters.” George grinned, a suspicious gleam in his eyes made Cara cautious.

And then the worse time of the day occurred. Now: Cara wished Natasha loved IKEA as much George Kingston did. The drive from the car park to IKEA was short, and not short enough to change her best friend’s mind to turn the plan of day around. A lot of memories happening in the Swedish warehouse were not as fun as Cara remembered.

People were her first worries. Cara disliked the idea of people inside a metal box with a lack of windows in. The air always felt tight and the kids screaming in glee caused more pain in Cara’s ears. She knew why warehouses gave her anxiety, but for Natasha: there was no excuse to hide the squirming movements she made often.

The only place Natasha has been in room without the appearance of outdoors were seminar rooms and conventions – and IKEA: all because of natural claustrophobia. Cara knew that George saw Natasha’s phobia well and persuaded the man that it was mild.

Therefore, once they got onto the first floor: all Cara had to do was to put her mind somewhere else. Natasha liked the furniture being shown around. She liked the homely cottage look with the mixture of minimalism and monochromatic tones. George preferred the dark Moroccan colours after he visited Morocco a few years ago for a company trip.

Whilst Natasha picked out what they planned to order, Cara thought over on what she had done for the past several months. Her, moving away from London after five years, was something she had not expected if the Cara before her would have learned about. Chaos was Cara’s secret admirer, and she willingly took the plunge at the deep end and stayed there for years.

Now she was deciding in Natasha’s heart. It was Natasha’s choice, and Natasha’s future. Cara didn’t mind of course. The young girl from Gloucestershire was glad that she would be returning to where she was brought up, before things had changed and led her to study at Cambridge and brought her to London.

A full circle indeed.

And now Natasha Reed had taken the reigns from Cara Whites and found joy in what she loved.

It took four hours (half an hour eating Swedish meatballs in the restaurant) before they left with an order plan and stacks of moving boxes for their flat. The evening drive could have taken longer, but Cara fell asleep in the passenger seat, humming to the radio.

“…Nat…”

She grumbled, “What.”

“Wow, you’re actually knackered today.” George yawned. “Did UCL email back at you?”

Cara sat upright, yawning as well as she stretched her arms out from her bent positions. She adjusted her eyes, allowing to see speckles of red lights and spotted that how far they have travelled.

George asked again, “Well?”

“Yes. Yes they did,” Cara spoke. “They understood why I’m moving. I mean, I’ve been working with them as well as going in for lectures. I decided that maybe…maybe I should lay back on what I’ve studied and think of anything else I can use it with.”

She spotted him nod in agreement.

George replied, “That seems…sensible.” He added, “Like, I can’t force you to work to keep up the bills but with what you just contributed to our work, I can’t think of anything else you can do to make me even feel more poorer than ever.”

Chuckling, she tugged her brown hair to her side. “You’re literally a marketing director for Apple. Can’t you just accept how amazing you are?”

“Marketing director…YouTuber…the overall poster boy of gayness…” George mocked. “It’s all about filling the spaces they needed to make the bigger picture look better. You know better why’d I got that job in the first place, and that was to make my parents happy.”

Cara kept quiet.

A sigh left his lips. “Tell me something new for once.”

“We do things to make others happy for a job,” Cara plainly answered. “I’d rather do that then spend my entire life forcing others to enjoy what I love to do.”

George shook his head, “Sometimes I wonder if you ever gone to the poetry society.”

Cara snorted, entirely glad that Natasha wasn’t present to smile politely. She was a poet indeed, but not in the lines of stanzas and verses.

* * *

 

March came sooner than she hoped it would.

Lack of cherry blossoms in London made sure that Cara was prepared for the current wet weather London was battering down. The rain didn’t stop on their final moving day, saying goodbye to the now empty flat they had after selling most of their worn out ‘shit’ in _Gumtree_.

“What beautiful shit weather we’re having Georgey boy!” Cara loudly said as they put the boxes into the delivery van.

George responded with his finger, making her stick her tongue in an immature manner. “We’re not going to be done by six at this rate.”

She shook her head, wiping off the water from her forehead and began racing back up to the staircase. The place was fully empty, and they found various things they lost during their time there. Most were _Pokemon_ cards which they began collecting a year ago. At least thirty ‘shinies’ were tucked behind the television and bookcases.

Once everything was placed into the van, and the man from the moving company had finished his cup of tea: it was time for their three hour journey across the country. It was Cara’s turn to drive George’s Honda Civic. They blasted songs from _Spotify_ as they drove slower than usual. The three hours made the car clean from the rain until they parked over their new flat.

“Thank you so much,” Cara shook the man’s hand. “The least I can do is offer you something to drink before you leave?”

The man gladly hadn’t disagreed and even helped her, and her best friend move the boxes in and grab the kettle, tea bags and mugs. Despite the lounge being bare and brown due to boxes: the place was lit by grey light from the garden.

George passed her a mug and she thanked him.

“I called IKEA.” He said, “They won’t be delivering the furniture until tomorrow. So we might have to resort with the air mattresses.”

Cara huffed, “At least I’ve installed the Wi-Fi two weeks ago. Pippa wants the video done by tonight and I still have to edit Far Cry.” When she mentioned their friend across the pond, Cara would miss the antics her friend used to have with her.

Now they grew up, and still did the same things they enjoyed years ago.

“That woman’s crazy,” George muttered as he sipped his cup. “If I hadn’t asked Lola to always remind her we would’ve been expecting ten calls from her for not uploading anything.”

Cara said, “She’s not our boss. She’s just…bossy.”

“Well we are getting a Brindley for a boss.” He smiled. “We’re not that far from the nearest clickbaiting sponsored microphone.”

Her thoughts crossed over the name. She haven’t thought of the name for many years, and was surprised that behind the workings of a great content creator called BlueXephos: was Lewis Brindley himself. That caused her some curiosity. The boy she vaguely remembered was nothing but a studious person, often seen as the one who sat on the beach chair or playing with his younger brother Ralph.

She was ready and prepared to see what the boy next door turned up to be.


End file.
